


why don’t you dance like you’re sick in your mind?

by houndsof1ove



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Batjokes, Fluff, M/M, its just fluff, uhhhhh hey this is my first valeyne fic whats good, valyene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-23 06:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14928725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houndsof1ove/pseuds/houndsof1ove
Summary: “that’s base two, sweetheart. patience.”





	why don’t you dance like you’re sick in your mind?

**Author's Note:**

> hey uhhhh i love gotham hehe! valyenes a rare ship but i love em so i had to write some shit

jerome has been, and always will be scuffed converse and the smell of cigarette smoke on your index fingers.

if you ask the pretty blonde girl real nicely with a smile, she’ll lean in close and whisper and giggle about jerome putting nails in a bat and swinging right into his old man’s back.

maybe you shouldn’t though, because you’ll feel eyes go straight through your back and you’ll turn back around to see the redhead popping his gum and giving you a stretchy smile.

bruce has always been, and always will be black turtlenecks covering up pale necks and hands made for playing the piano.

you ask the girl with the pigtails and she’ll tell you all about how someone called bruce an orphaned bastard and how bruce dropped everything and broke their nose, and didn’t wash their blood off his hands.

in this fucked up way, of course they were fated to become lovers.

bruce is just walking, nothing else, and even though his eyes are downcast his shoulders are straight. he hooks jerome’s eye.

jerome’s leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand when he says “pretty boy,” like it’s bruce’s name, like he’s a villain in some overrated cult classic movie.

jerome’s heart speeds up when bruce turns, locks eyes with him, and walks, taking the nickname, embracing it, putting a nametag on his sweater.

bruce plucks the cigarette from his hand, looking at it disdainfully and crushing it under his heel.

”can i help you, jerome?”

they lock eyes, and jerome feels his long forgotten heart ache in his chest cavity, aches as he looks at bruce standing there, all oversized sweaters and curly hair.

”i think you can.” and he leans forward, slowly, gives bruce time to pull away. 

he doesn’t.

and bruce stands there, arms hanging helplessly, as jerome kisses him with the force of a hurricane barely contained, just a gentle force.

bruce is eager to respond, hands overwhelmingly warm on jerome’s face, and he’s kissing forcefully, and jerome feels himself go lightheaded before he pulls away.

he clicks his tongue and wags his finger at bruce, pressing a coy kiss to his neck.

”that’s base two, sweetheart. patience.”

bruce’s face splits into a smile before he punches jerome in the chest lightly.

jerome wraps the boy up into his arms, and there they stand, swaying, surrounded by the butts of jerome’s late afternoon smoke break.

**Author's Note:**

> idk if anyone is gonna read this but uh. lemme know what u think


End file.
